


kissed me till the morning light

by nbsherlock



Series: plenty of affection [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Hair Brushing, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), loosely inspired by the new infinity war trailer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 00:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13582047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nbsherlock/pseuds/nbsherlock
Summary: bucky blinks awake.—the sun rises in wakanda.





	kissed me till the morning light

**Author's Note:**

> “boy, those boys have long hair!” said my brain, mid-tortured scream, as i watched the new infinity war trailer. and then i got into bed and decided i should express my feelings further. 
> 
> the timeline on this is... loose. you decide when it happens. i wrote it thinking, ‘hey, what if steve and bucky had like. a WEEK between bucky waking up & getting out of cryo and thanos showing up w his giant purple head. but, you know. it could happen in a happy future where bucky and steve still live in wakanda for some reason! 
> 
> as always, not betaed and in all lowercase on purpose. title from samson from regina spektor (i know, i know).

bucky blinks awake. 

every day starts similar to this one. he knows he’s safe, it’s just a matter of figuring out why and where. 

the bed is warm and too soft, but despite that, he welcomes it. he would rather sleep on a bed too soft than go back into cryo— for once. 

the mattress underneath him starts to shift, and that’s when things start making sense. 

steve, who is lucky bucky sleeps curled up so tightly, is extended across the entirety of the bed. his left arm is half under bucky’s head, his hand loosely twined in his hair. bucky feels a jolt of recognition whenever he thinks of steve’s sleeping habits. not like a memory, just an: oh, i’ve been here before. i’ve seen you like this. this isn’t the first time. 

the fingers in his hair tighten a bit as steve wakes up, eyes fluttering open. bucky watches as he wakes up. he feels his stomach twist up as he surveys the way the dim light of the sunrise plays on steve’s skin, the freckles that have bloomed across his cheeks. 

he knows that he, personally, has regained color, but can’t keep himself from remembering the days after he came home, grey and hollow. he tries not to ask himself how steve could stand to share a bed with him. the thought comes anyway. 

steve turns and curls up, facing bucky now, hand moving softly through his hair, untangling the strands. “it’s getting long,” he says. his voice is deep and warm with sleep. 

“you’re one to talk,” bucky feels himself say. it’s true. steve’s hair has grown out, partially in thanks to bucky’s short stay in cryo. he rolled his eyes when bucky first commented on it, said, ‘you don’t like it?’ on the contrary,

steve snorts, “you said you liked it.” he did. he likes that he can run his hands through it like steve does with his. he doesn’t very often, but the option being there is comforting, like the too soft bed. a too soft opportunity he’s afraid to sink his feet into, for fear he won’t come out. 

bucky raises a hand to steve’s head and pushes his fingers through, fixing the bed head that had formed during the night. steve closes his eyes and smiles. “do you remember doing this before?”

bucky’s least favorite kinds of questions are the ones that start with ‘do you remember’, because more often than not he doesn’t. however, “i think so.” he threads his fingers through steve’s hair again. it’s soft, clean. steve showered the night before. 

“when i was sick,” steve says, breath slow and even. “you would sit with me and just,” bucky moves his hand again, “yeah, like that.” 

“and it helped?”

steve cracks an eye open, “what?”

“this helped your illness,” bucky clarifies. 

steve chuckles. “no. i think you just did it to comfort me. my ma did it, before she,” steve pauses, swallows—still hasn’t let himself mourn, bucky thinks without prompt, sending his head reeling—continues, “and then i guess you followed in her footsteps. i guess you did in a lot of ways, back then.”

“what else?”

steve smiles. “what else? well, you coddled me more than she ever did, and tried very hard to make an edible meal when i wasn’t up and about. i always appreciated it, but you were never much of a cook,” steve grins. “you were great at boiling water, though.”

bucky tugs at steve’s hair a little. “but, you took care of me,” steve says, soft, “you always did.”

bucky stares at him, his closed eyes, his slightly open mouth. and, oh well. 

he darts forward and presses his lips to steve’s, softly. 

there’s a moment of motionlessness where bucky fears he’s made a terrible mistake, and then things seem to speed up, and steve is kissing him back. he’s threading his hands into bucky’s hair, holding his head like that, and kissing and kissing and kissing him. it makes bucky lightheaded in a way that is entirely pleasant. 

when they pull apart, steve’s eyes dart across his face; to his eyes, his lips, back and forth. “that was okay?”

bucky closes his eyes and shakes his head. “ _i_ kissed _you_.” 

steve nods, “you did.”

bucky leans in and kisses him again, once, twice, soft and loving things. loving. that’s what bucky is doing, what steve is doing in return. 

when he pulls back again, steve’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. bucky looks at him, one hand on his neck, the other on the bed between them. steve’s face is flushed, and the pink of his cheeks makes him look younger, more awake. bucky likes how that looks on him. 

“did we ever, before?”

steve shakes his head. his eyes dart away, “i always wanted to, though. you were always a real looker.” he looks back at bucky. 

“i don’t know if he wanted to, then.”

“but you want to now?”

bucky nods. 

“so it doesn’t matter if you wanted to then,” bucky notes the change of pronoun. “we’re here and i want this, too.”

bucky blinks. i want this. loving, taking care of. his head spins. lightheaded, in a good way. 

“thank you,” bucky says. he doesn’t know why. 

steve smiles and kisses the tip of bucky’s nose. bucky blinks, frantically, his heart close to bursting. “you don’t need to thank me,” steve says, voice low and warm, not from sleep. 

bucky thinks: of course i do. of course, of course, of course. 

the sun rises in wakanda.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments always appreciated. they give me the fuel i need to write More garbage fic. 
> 
> i’m @margaritaville on tumblr if you want to view another platform where i cry about steve rogers and am filled with a general sense of panic.


End file.
